


At Home Among the Stars

by Katherine24



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, MAAS Sarah J. - Works
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, eventual mating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:49:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27195356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katherine24/pseuds/Katherine24
Summary: I recently found out that the word for those insane little pushes in your mind to do stupid things are called intrusive thoughts. I get this feeling sometimes and ever since I finished ACOWAR and threw myself deep into the Nessian fanfic, I have wondered if Nesta ever had this little intrusive thought...This is how I see it playing out, when she is too drunk on faerie wine to stop herself and Cassian has to save her. Before long it becomes their little game.
Relationships: Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Comments: 22
Kudos: 36





	1. Intrusive Thoughts and Faerie Wine

The first time Nesta did it was at a Starfall party. Not her first one since becoming a fae, but the first she had felt like celebrating. And she had had too much to drink.

As a human, she had never had the opportunity to explore the elusive limit: the tipping point between joy and madness. Not that it would have mattered, this fae body... her fae body, responded to everything differently and from her limited experiences, she knew the alcohol here was different too.

The feeling of being drunk was new to Nesta. The way her thoughts danced in spiralling patterns she couldn't follow. before long, she found herself moving along the familiar path up to the roof as if her fae body craved the night air. She hated that she might actually be at home in this court, but she still marvelled at her instincts as the relief of being away from the bright lights and twirling dancers hit her.

She took a deep breath of the cold, night air and her thoughts cleared.

The majority of the stars had passed over and only a few partygoers remained outside, conversing in little clusters. Nesta looked at them and her heart ached a little at her loneliness. On the dancefloor, it didn't matter who you were, there was always a steady stream of strangers ready to whisk you away. Nesta had danced each dance with a new partner, their faces (some more human-looking than others) appeared and blurred together in her mind and she was forced to once again draw the cold, night air deep into her lungs, the resulting shiver seemed to shake the images from her mind leaving it clear once more.

She took in her surroundings, trying to ground herself in reality. At first glance, it seemed that each of the little groups were just taking in the final few stars smattering the sky overhead, but Nesta looked closer, she wanted to take in every detail of this night, finally free of all her burdens (even if she wasn't entirely sure she would remember it in the morning). It didn't take her long to decide that there were 3 reasons to be up on the roof. The first was to escape the party, this justified the presence of those still nursing drinks, a scattering of empty bottles around them and a cache of full ones nearby, the draw of free alcohol enough to lure them to the party, but not to entice them to remain downstairs and participate fully in the socialising. There were a few groups like this. The second reason was respite from the party, these patrons were taking the opportunity to swap alcohol for water and sit cradling their heads in their hands, far from the lilting music still drifting up the staircase. The final reason was privacy, the couples deep in whispered conversations, or, much to Nesta's shock and disgust, couples engaging their mouths in other ways. Nesta chided herself for allowing her human ideas about modesty to make her harsh and judgmental, it was yet another thing that was different, she needed to get used to it, she was trying to get used to it, maybe she could even... embrace it. She stopped those thoughts dead in their tracks, taking another deep breath of cold, night air deep into her lungs, to once again clear her head. Faerie wine, much like faeries themselves, was delicious and dangerous.

Her eyes were flitting about the rooftop trying to keep from looking at any of the couples in particular when they caught on a pair of wings. Three pairs, in fact, interspersed by smaller female figures. Stood further out onto the roof than where she had stopped near the door, they truly were watching the last few stars wend their way across the sky, the Night Court incarnate. She felt some stardust land on her cheek and as she stared at those beautiful wings, a faint glow clouding the corner of her vision, one thought filled her empty mind. Her alcohol addled brain couldn't quite form the words, there was only the overwhelming feeling that she wanted to know what it was to be a star, flying alone, but together above the world but not quite in it: powerful and delicate. Blissfully inebriated, the stars sang to her that no one could truly understand how she felt in this world, except maybe them. The alcohol in her system became a dam holding back logic, allowing the thought to become all-consuming. The call of the stars grew louder and louder and Nesta turned her gaze towards them.

As if feeling the loss of her gaze upon him, Cassian turned and watched as Nesta looked towards the star and without warning, began to run full speed towards the edge of the roof.

Rhys had been in the middle of talking to him, so when he turned away from the conversation mid-sentence, they all looked with him. They stared confused as Nesta ran towards the edge of the roof. She was now level with them and she wasn't slowing down. Everyone was transfixed. Two heartbeats passed. _Thump_. 'She's not slowing down.' _Thump_. 'Run.' Cassian shot after her. She was now closer to the edge than he was, but he was faster. His arm wrapped around her waist just as she launched herself into the sky, an arm outstretched towards the stars. He loosed a sigh of relief at having her in his arms a split second before his body hit hers and he realised their combined momentum would carry them over the edge. He held her flush to him, the force of his tackle causing them to tumble through the open air as they fell. Two heartbeats passed. _Thump_. 'Shit, I tackled Nesta off the roof.' _Thump_. 'Fly.' The part of his brain that had trained as a warrior for hundreds of years before this mortal girl had even been conceived took those two heartbeats to click into place. He calculated the timing and out his wings snapped, at the perfect moment in their tumbling to catch the wind and level them out.

Nesta could feel the stars getting closer, if she just ran hard enough, jumped high enough, they would catch her and take her with them, to the place where wandering things could rest. She was so tired, she wanted to rest, but she needed to run. As she neared the edge she reached for the stars, she was weightless, she would make it.

An anchor clamped around her and she was being pulled down. The wind rushed passed her as she fell and she shut her eyes against it. Her awareness slowly returned to her after the initial shock. It wasn't the same feeling as falling through the depthless waters of the cauldron, unlike the water that pressed in, the air tore at her. She wished it would tear the anchor from her and let her soar with the stars. There was a jolt and she thought that the stars had answered her, as she began to come free. The arm, that's what it was, tightened around her to prevent her from escaping. No, not escaping, but it was pulling her upwards, stopping her from falling. The weight was not an anchor at all, but the weight of another person. The air stopped rushing past them and a sob ripped through her as she was finally able to take another deep breath. This time though, her head was clear, the adrenaline wiping away the fog of alcohol. Dangling from in her saviour's arms, she could only hear the leathery wings beating behind her as they carried her up towards the stars.

Only to bank left and set her back down on top of the roof.

"I just wanted to touch the stars," she said quietly before the warm weight at her back stepped away and gently helped her as she sagged to her knees.

Nesta let her eyes remain closed, mourning the loss of that dream. Tomorrow night the stars would be gone and there would be no one to lead her home. She would never get to feel the freedom of soaring over the world. Tears rolled silently down her cheeks.

It took her a moment to process the voices as they drew near.

"I had her by the waist. I almost dropped her." Cassian, she knew that voice was Cassian.

"The impact of you grabbing her could have done some damage, I'll send for a healer. I take it you want a strong drink ?" Practicality, that was Rhys.

"Guess the party is over." Mor... Nesta blocked that voice out.

The various comments continued. Azriel, Amren, Feyre. Until her brain was able to pick up on a faint sobbing.

Elain.

Nesta's eyes shot open. Elain was instantly on her knees facing Nesta. Feyre approached more cautiously and looked like she was going to try to embrace Nesta, but changed her course to kneel next to Elain instead. She rested a hand lightly on Nesta's arm, the other reaching around Elain to steady the girl who was trying desperately to hide her sobbing, only leading to unsteady breathing.

None of them seemed to know what to say for a long while, before Feyre, of course, it was Feyre, always taking the lead, said: "if you aren't happy here, there are other places you can _live._ ”

The emphasis on that last word told Nesta everything she needed to know about what exactly her sister believed she had been trying to do and that meant this conversation wasn't going to wait. Even with the rush of falling through the air, Nesta could still feel the alcohol fogging her brain but she met her sisters' eyes and tried to conjure the words to explain what had just happened to them. They deserved that much, if they cared enough to listen, they would deserve that much.


	2. Why?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nesta is hounded for a ration explanation to her irrational decision, luckily she already gave one. Luckily it was to the person who listens, to what she can and cannot voice.

Try as she might, Nesta just couldn't think of what to say to them. Not a single word as she knelt in the dust, facing her sisters. Her breathing was back to normal after the rush of adrenaline and Cassian catching her around the stomach, but she kept breathing deeply, hoping it would prevent them from demanding answers from her and buy her time to order her thoughts. The rest of the Inner Circle, however, had quieted their conversations. Waiting. That word kept ringing in her head over and over. _Live_. There was a quiet joy in the certainty with which she knew she did not want to die.

She had died and what had been left had been forced into this strange fae body and she had, for a long time, considered it a punishment that she was being made to keep living even though her human body was no more, but she didn’t feel that way anymore. She had been enjoying herself, she had let herself be happy for once and look where it had got her. That was a turn in her thoughts that she needed to shut out. She could feel their eyes upon her, how would she articulate all that to them?

Thankfully Rhys returned with the healer at that very moment sparing Nesta the conversation. She sighed in relief. Then regretted it almost immediately as the healer began fussing. It made her want to scream. The feeling intensified when the healer had the audacity to suggest that Nesta be carried inside, looking directly between the three males without consulting her. She couldn't find the words, but she could prove to them she was ok. Nesta tried to rise. Only to sway on her feet. Just a fraction, but enough that Feyre, Elain and even gods-damned Rhys and Cassian all took a step forward ready to catch her. Not the best way to begin proving to them that she was alright.

"It's just the alcohol. Cassian did not do any damage. I am not fragile." Once again Nesta was left with a feeling of regret, she knew her first words should have been to reassure her sisters or to thank Cassian, but she could think straight with the traces of alcohol lingering and with them all staring at her like that. She opted for a slightly slower pace, but nonetheless walked, on her own two feet, into the house. Thankfully the party hadn’t spilled over into the residential wing of the house and Nesta took a servants passage to avoid walking through the party. Much to her chagrin, it seemed the entire Inner Circle was determined to follow, even Cassian and Azriel (whose wings she was sure must have been scraping along the ceiling as they moved through the low passage) and, despite her earlier thoughts about trying to adjust to all the differences in her new life, Nesta couldn’t help but wish her ‘family’ would give her some privacy. It seemed Mor, at least, had drifted off. Perhaps she was following through on her earlier sentiment and was ending the party.

She reaching her rooms and silently prayed that when she entered, the males at least wouldn’t follow. They did. So she perched herself on the delicate chaise in front of the window. At least she had the small reception room, she baulked at the thought of them invading her bedroom.

“Well,” the healer said. “You can walk so it’s unlikely to have done any permanent damage, but of course the alcohol could be dulling the pain at the moment so I would like to check for bruising.” The healer looked at her and smiled. There was a pause. Nesta wracked her brain. She had been half preoccupied with the thought of Cassian in her bedroom, and Rhys and Azriel, but she was fairly sure the healer hadn’t given Nesta any instructions. When the healer didn't continue Nesta tried nodding her understanding. There was another long pause. “I need to see your stomach to check for any bruising.” Nesta looked down at her dress, then up at the 3 males.

“Sorry, we’ll give you some space.” As if waking from a trace, Rhys' eyes focussed on her and they all filed out of the room. No doubt he had been calming Feyre through the mate bond. Her assumptions were confirmed when Nesta caught them passing a look between them that told her that, even from outside the room, he would be informed of every move she made. Nesta couldn't summon the energy to care in that moment, so she stood up and turned around, to allow one of the remaining females to help her out of the dress. None of them seemed inclined to leave, so she might as well get the shame of undressing in front of them over with quickly.

A few minutes of painful prodding and magical probing later. She was fine. It was just as she had said, she was fine. She felt a shred of dignity returning to her, at least she knew her own body and had the presence of mind to declare it.

She quickly ducked into the dressing room to retrieve her robe. When she returned, Feyre and the healer were talking in low tones. “I think it’s best you take it from here.” The healer said to Feyre before smiling brightly at Nesta. “I’m sure if you feel fine you’ll be ok, but will you promise me that if you notice any discomfort whatsoever you will call a healer? It is not just a bit of pain that will go away in a few days because I would have seen the bruising to the skin developing now, it'll be something internal which is much, much worse, ok? And if you have any... other concerns, we’re here to help in any way we can, so just send for a healer. I’ve left some paper that'll get the message directly to me, alright?” The healer didn’t wait for an answer to any of the questions before smiling brightly again, bowing to Feyre and opening the door just a little to slip out. Used to being discrete

“Take what from here?” Nesta groaned and gave Feyre a tiresome look hoping that she could use Feyre’s sympathy to avoid the conversation she knew was coming.

“Your… aftercare.”

“You mean asking if I’m ok and fetching me cups of tea so I don’t have to get up as much?” Nesta asked, even though she knew that wasn’t what Feyre meant.

“Well, yes if that’s what you need, I would love to talk about if you’re ok.”

A firm but calm voice interjected. “Stop dancing around it Feyre, she’s not a child. Nesta, you said it yourself, you aren’t broken, or fragile, but people in their right minds don’t throw themselves off buildings. We all saw you run towards the edge, so tell us as much or as little as you want about what happened or how you were feeling and why you were feeling it. Tell us in your own time, but what can we do to stop it from happening again?” At least Amren was dealing with her like an adult. She respected that Nesta knew her own mind, she wasn’t crazy.

“You’re right, I did run off the edge.” Start with the facts, they were the easy bit, right? Nesta knew it wasn't the right thing to say, she should have known from Feyre's comment, why didn't she think before she spoke. But it was too late, Feyre’s face melted into a look of pity that made Nesta feel both incredibly guilty and like she wanted to scream again.

“I didn’t know you were so unha…”

“I’m not unhappy Feyre.”

“Is it a lack of purpose? There’s plenty to do in Velaris, a job maybe or just start with some hobbies…”

“It’s not that Feyre. I am fine.”

“Ok. Well, maybe you should come and stay at the townhou…”

“I didn’t do it on purpose, or at least I did but not like that. Either way, I’m not going to do it again.” Nesta’s voice trailed off until she was practically whispering that last bit, no less fierce, just quieter, she needed to get it all out, even if she didn’t need them to hear it all. She continued her angry muttering, sorting through the facts. “Tonight was actually the first night I let myself enjoy one of these stupid parties. The dancing and the stars and the alcohol and I just.”

Feyre’s face hardened as she fixated on the word, ignoring all the others Nesta had muttered. Alcohol. Alcohol was tangible, Feyre couldn’t stop feelings, but she could get rid of alcohol. “So it was the alcohol? That’s fine I can…”

“It’s not about you Feyre, you’re not hearing me.”

“Feyre.” Amren’s firm hard tone again cut between them, reprimanding Feyre, because Nesta was right, this wasn't about anything Feyre could do. “Nesta can have as much time as she wants. Give. It. To. Her. Nesta, would you like me to stay? I want to hear what you have to say, but if you don’t have anything to say yet, that’s ok.”

Nesta loosed a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. “Bed.” She uttered and turned towards her bedroom. It was enough of a dismissal for Amren to give Feyre a sharp look and for them both to move towards the door. “I’ll pop by just before lunch tomorrow,” Amren assured her and left.

It was Elain who lingered. “I know it’s not about me either, but…” she said sheepishly, “but could I stay here tonight. After everything we’ve been through I still get nightmares and… tonight I might need a little extra reminder that you’re alright.” Nesta and Elain had often shared a room or a bed after the ordeal with the cauldron and the King of Hybern, to calm _both_ their nerves. They were used to it after the cottage. If it had been anyone else, Nesta might have considered it an attempt to keep an eye on her, but it was Elain, sweet gentle Elain, so Nesta just lifted an arm wearily and Elain walked to her.

“You can stay but honestly, I’m not entirely sure what happened just yet either. I wasn’t trying to end my life and I’m not a drunkard.”

“I trust you Nesta and I love you.” And with Elain still fully clothed, they walked into Nesta's room and tumbled into bed. Nesta truly didn’t believe that Elain was spying on her, but when Nesta didn’t go up to breakfast and a hungover Mor came to eat with her, she knew it was part of Feyre’s ‘watch’. She made the meal as boring and awkward as possible. Mor seemed uninclined to talk, but the silence worked and soon after breakfast, she made a thinly veiled excuse and left the room. Nesta quickly gathered some book and went to hide in one of her most remote reading nooks. It was two hours before Feyre burst into the room and then tried to feign surprise at seeing her there. Nesta had sat in that room on many an occasion when even the noise of faerie servants moving around the house was too much of an unwelcome reminder of everything that had happened since leaving the cottage all those years ago and knew that Feyre never came into this room. Feyre had been hunting for her. She told Feyre as much. Feyre's response was to quickly change the topic, trying to strike up a conversation that would keep her there for as long as possible. Nesta avoided the trap by giving clipped answers and despite her best efforts, Feyre tired of the conversation quickly. She gave a cheery goodbye, so at odds with the tone of the conversation, and left.

She hadn’t read much anyway, she’d been far too preoccupied thinking over the events of last night. Maybe she had been more drunk than she thought, who knew what faerie wine did to humans-made-fae. Did the stars call to all High Fae of the Night Court or had those thoughts truly come from inside her?

Amren, true to her promise dropped by and although there was still nothing Nesta could say, there was some reassurance in knowing that Amren had followed through on her promise to visit, but not to push her. She only stayed an hour, during which they sat in silence, but Nesta didn’t resent the calm quiet presence. One look at Nesta before she left and Amren didn't bother to invite Nesta down for lunch. Shortly after, however, Nuala materialised through the walls to offer Nesta some lunch. She figured she should eat, if only because she knew Nuala would have to report back to the High Lord and Lady and Nesta didn’t want to add hunger strike to her list of apparent ails. She thought the afternoon would pass without consequence and it almost did, until Cassian dropped by. He flew in through the open windows behind her and walk across the room on silent feet. By this time Nesta had given up her pondering and was fully engrossed in her book, so when he placed his hand on her shoulder, she jumped right out of the chair and whirled towards him. He apologised through his laughter and gave her a wide berth as he moved to the chaise opposite and lay down on his back. She resettled in her armchair. She glared at him, even as his gaze remained fixed on the ceiling. “You’re welcome to say thanks anytime you know.” Ah, so he was here to play their usual games, trade quips and distract each other from life. That was ok she supposed, she could play.

“And in what way could I best exhibit my eternal gratitude, SuperCassian.” She forced all her energy into her voice, trying to sound as sarcastic as possible.

“I suppose I am rather like a Superhero aren’t I, well let’s see, you could swoon over me like in the movies.” Nesta scoffed, he raised his eyebrows at her before turning back to the ceiling and pausing for a moment of fake consideration. “Or you could buy me a present.” An incredulous look from Nesta. This time he held her gaze. “Take me to dinner?” A Shake of the head. “You _could_ just say 'thank you, Cassian.'” When she didn’t immediately reply, he broke eye contact, shifting nervously to a seated position. “Or you could tell me why the heck I had to dive off a cliff to save you in the first place?” his voice was quiet now and his hands were gripping the edge of the sofa so tightly she thought it might break. There was a long silence. “Nesta. You said you just wanted to touch the stars. What did you mean?”

She contemplated for a long time what to say. The morning had given her a pretty good idea of what had gone through her head in the moments before even if she didn’t quite understand them. “I saw your wings… you, and Rhys and Azriel that is, and,” her voice was shaking and she cursed it. “the stars, the sky, all of it called to me and I just wanted to be a part of it, above the world. I wanted to be graceful and powerful, to fly away with them.”

“We can go flying.” He said it quietly.

“It’s not…”

“the same.” He finished and it took Nesta a moment to realise that he knew exactly how she felt because he had been trapped on the ground too. “Nesta, all fae are different, even more so than humans are different from one another. You will never find a place in the world where everyone is like you, but it’s like a jigsaw, people don’t look the same, you just need to find the rough edges that match yours. That’s what the Inner Circle is, you are allowed to belong with us even though you’re different and if we’re not your fit then there are thousands of people in Velaris, go find your fit.”

“I never said I was lonely.”

“No, but you wanted to be a part of something. Choose to be a part of the world, Nesta.” The air went tight between them and Nesta couldn’t help but feel that her soul was laid bare before him, but he simply stood up and walked past her. He paused level with her chair and without turning to look at her, he placed a hand on her shoulder and said, “I won’t tell your family what you said to me that night or what we’ve just discussed, because I hope you will. They won’t resent you for not fitting with them, because they love you and family is a bond that can stretch beyond fitting together” He strode to the window and leapt out. She turned to look and she could have sworn that he flew a little higher in the evening sky than he needed to, closer to where the stars were starting to appear, because maybe he was a star too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am aware that I kind of glossed over the conversations a little bit, as I said before, I am very lucky to have lived to the age of 20 and never been in this situation (or maybe I don't come off as a good listener so people just don't come to me... that's far too introspective for the notes section on a fanfiction) so I didn't really know how to convey it and make it sound realistic. Hopefully, you can buy into the concept of Feyre not being able to look past the action itself and her preconception of Nesta as depressed to see that although it was a potentially fatal act, she didn't want to die. Also, the idea that Elain is really shaken up by it and doesn't know what to say and that Amren wants to give Nesta time, but is also really practical in giving Nesta forewarning and reassurance that she will turn up the next day, so Nesta doesn't feel intruded upon or have to reach out to Amren on her own.
> 
> The next chapter is far more positive, predictions welcome, it's so fascinating to see if other people's brains work the same way mine does!


	3. Jagged Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nesta wants to find a way to make her jagged pieces fit with Feyre's. She isn't sure if that is even possible, or whether they are two sides of the same coin, a mirror image, sharp in all the same places, but she needs to make a plan, so she calls in reinforcements from someone whose jagged pieces fit with hers better than she ever would have expected.

3 days passed and Amren was the only one who came to see Nesta.

They would sit in silence for the hour before lunch. Then, Amren would go downstairs and Nuala would bring up a tray for Nesta. She was relieved but almost worried about how un-interfering her little sister was being. Maybe Cassian had said something and that’s why Feyre wasn’t worried? She didn’t like the idea of Cassian betraying her trust. He had understood parts of her even she didn’t and if he was inclined to share those parts… she shuddered. 

On the other hand, if Cassian hadn’t said anything… did that mean that Feyre had given up on her again, like she did after the war? Nesta knew she hadn’t been very forthcoming, maybe she should have just talked to Feyre in the first place? Feyre deserved that from her, even if she wasn’t sure what she would have said 4 days ago, she should have just endured it, shouldn’t she? Nesta’s breathing began to quicken. She fumbled for a rational explanation, anything to calm her rising panic.

Amren. Maybe it was just Amren reassuring them. Maybe Nesta was overthinking things. Maybe. The word hung heavy in her mind and all the endless possibilities began to overwhelm her again. Any hope of reasoning with herself was lost. She could feel the panic attack closing in. The urge to close her eyes against the dizziness was almost too great, but she had to focus on reminding herself where she was. She had to breathe deeply. She slid out of the chair onto the cold floor, laying her palms flat against it. It was a solid anchor against the tide. _She was in her room. She was safe. She was cared for. She was cared for._ It took a few times to get that one to sink in. When the dizziness subsided, Nesta slowly shuffled to the balcony doors and pushed them open. Her breathing was almost back to normal, but her room had become too hot somehow.

If just the thought of talking to Feyre did this to her, Nesta had no idea how she was actually going to do it…

Nesta didn’t talk to Feyre that day.

The following day, however, she made a plan. Practicality could be unfeeling in the wrong circumstances and Nesta had often resented how easily Feyre had been able to sweep things under the rug and just keep living, but Nesta needed to address this and the only way she was going to be able to do it was with a plan. She would work her way up to Feyre.

_ Plan _

__

_ Step 1: Speak to Cassian. _

_ Sub-step a: this may require asking Amren or Nuala to get him a message, so write a letter and keep it with you tomorrow. _

_ Sub-step b: write also what exactly you are going to say. Amren wants to know what happened, why it happened and what they can do to help. _

__

(She paused to went over her reasoning in her head – ‘Cassian already knows, so I can practise the words without having to worry about his response. It definitely isn’t anything more that makes you feel sure you will be comfortable talking to him.’)

_ Step 2: Tell Amren. _

_ Sub-step a: revise responses based on the conversation with Cassian. _

_ Sub-step b: bath, bed, breakfast to relax and prepare. Wear light, loose clothing so you don’t feel trapped or smothered by it if you start to panic. Red, for confidence. _

(Aside – ‘this should be the day after I tell Cassian so I don’t chicken out.’ She really did write that one down.)

_ Step 3: Tell Feyre. _

(Considerations – if Amren reacts poorly, or demands immediate action, this conversation may have to be on the same day. Mentally prepare for this.)

She didn’t quite know what ‘mentally preparing’ would entail, but anticipating being ambushed made her feel more in control, even if she knew it was contradictory.

Her handwriting still wasn’t neatest after her schooling had been cut short all those years ago, but she had taken her time on the plan and thought the half calligraphy looked quite beautiful. The swirling lines soothed her and she couldn’t help but feel that the tasks looked less fearsome displayed so prettily on a page. Like a beast in a suit, gently clutching a tiny daisy, she tried to conjure a smile at the thought, but found she was too exhausted. She hadn’t slept well after the panic attack and there was the added emotional drain of drawing up her plan of action. At least the thoughts weren’t rattling around her brain anymore, she could finally take a breath. Perhaps she should take a nap? But it was barely an hour past lunch, so she instead resigned herself to writing to Cassian. She didn’t want to write to him, but if she didn’t do it tonight it wouldn’t be ready to give to Amren tomorrow and that would delay her plan another day. She was already taking too long about it as it was.

_ Dear Cassian, _

__

_ I would take great pleasure if you  _

_ would accept an invitation to have _

_ tea with me. _

_ Tomorrow, 11:00. _

__

_ Yours Sincerely, _

_ Nesta Archeron _

She thought it was a miracle when she wrote a satisfactory letter on only her fourth attempt. It was rather formal, based on the letters her mother would write when it was her turn to host her friends for brunch. Nesta had tried a more friendly tone, had tried to tell Cassian that she needed him, but the words wouldn’t come out right, so she had settled. If Cassian didn’t respond to the awkward letter, well, she supposed she would have to go straight to step 2; Amren. She really hoped Cassian would come.

Nesta slept fitfully again that night. Dreams where she didn’t run for the edge, but instead Feyre was next to her, pushing her. Dreams where Cassian didn’t catch her. Dreams where he did, but as he pulled up, the force ripped her from his arms. Dreams where the stars mocked her. Dreams where Elain cried over her broken body. Dreams when Elain did not cry at the sight.

By the time the sun rose, she was still too tired to move from her bed. The knowledge of what she needed to do today wasn’t much of an incentive to try. So she lay there well into the morning. Just before Amren’s usual visit, she managed to drag herself from the sheets, shrug her robe on over her nightclothes, retrieve the letter and sit at the small table in front of the window. Amren winnowed into the seat mere minutes later. Normally Nesta was reading a book and would look up only to acknowledge Amren’s presence, so Amren seemed pleasantly surprised to see Nesta sat up straight looking across the table at her.

“Hello.” A simple, cautious test: to see if Nesta truly was in a talkative mood today.

“Good morning” She was anxiously fidgeting and not making eye contact. Was Nesta about to tell her what was going on? Amren had promised Nesta as much time as she needed and she would keep that promise, but as an immortal, there were very few things left for her to be curious about, the feelings of a human-made-fae? That was definitely up there. As much as she respected Nesta and the gravity of the situation, especially if something was deeply troubling Nesta, the sweet anticipation of knowing and understanding something entirely new to her was rising. Nesta’s eyes settled on the letter on the table. Amren bit her tongue to keep from speaking. “Would you be able to deliver this for me?”

“Yes. To Feyre?” Calm, measured words. Nesta had told her she was not fragile, but right now it was like a deer in the headlights and Amren did not want to scare her off.

“No.” It came out more abruptly that she had intended. “I mean, no, to… Cassian?” She sounded almost unsure about it, so Amren only nodded affirmingly, picked up the letter and paused awkwardly before standing up and turning towards the door. “I hope this means you’re healing. We’re all really worried about you. Not to say… I just mean… We don’t want you to be shut off, we want you to be a part of our lives and us a part of yours, that’s all.” It seemed even Amren was thrown a bit off-kilter by the way she was acting. Amren who had lived for thousands of years, nervous about upsetting the feelings of a being not even 30 years old.

Nesta sat staring blankly at the closed door for a few minutes after Amren left. She supposed she should move onto Step 1, sub-step b. It was the logical thing to do; follow the plan, resolve the situation.

She forced herself from the chair by the window and moved to the writing desk. She had just pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment when there was a light tap on the door. She turned towards the door and absent-mindedly called out for the visitor to enter, but when she looked up expecting to find Amren and instead was greeted by black wings and a tall muscular frame, her stomach dropped.

Suddenly, she was all too aware of her own body, the way her breathing had become uneven, her unwashed face, her unbrushed hair, her bare feet, her bare legs. Oh Gods, she was still in her pyjamas and had woken up less than an hour ago. She pulled her robe over her and forced an uneasy smile to her face.

“Cassian. Uh… what a… surprise?” She had meant to say pleasant, even nice would have done, but she just felt surprised.

“Sorry, I was in the building anyway and thought I’d just let you know I’m free tomorrow, but clearly this is a bad time, I should have just written a letter back, I’ll just go. Bye, see you tomorrow and all that,” he was rushing over the words, blushing almost as deeply as she was.

“Cassian, you don’t need to go.” She was shocked at the words, even as they left her mouth. She hadn’t prepared. Step 1; sub-step b was still just a blank piece of paper on her desk. What would she say to him? “Unless of course, you’re busy, then I’ll see you tomorrow, of course.” Now she was the one rambling.

“I’ve got time.” From across the room, she was so glad that she could quite meet his hazel eyes. The soft look of genuine concern on his face was enough to calm her, but she didn’t know if she could handle more than that. 

He came further into the room and sat awkwardly at one end of the couch. She walked to the opposite sofa, picking up the throw and using it to cover herself as she sat on the couch, leaned against the arm and tucked her legs neatly beneath her. They sat for a few moments, the silence was thick and heavy, weighing on her. Cassian cleared his throat, the cough a deep rumble in his chest, but it was Nesta that spoke first.

“I need help.” He looked at her, weighing her mood. He decided to play.

“You’re going to have to give me a little more than that.” There was no fierceness behind the playful words. Nesta ignored them, why had she chosen Cassian to share her deep emotional issues with.

“I need help explaining my feelings. The thoughts and feelings get all… messy and then it’s like… I just panic and… well… take yesterday, it was like the walls were moving in, I got all dizzy and I couldn’t breathe and it was like a volcanic eruption, the heat and the ash choking me: just thinking about telling Feyre.” Her words were running away with her.

“I know.” He said it as if he actually did. Her head snapped up. How could he know about her panic attack? She tried to read what was conveyed in his gaze; the shared emotion flowing between them like an invisible thread. She opened her mouth to say something and shut it again. Cassian seemed to realise what he’d said, what it implied. They were both fumbling for words and Cassian dropped her stare. He spoke first. “I know… what you mean. Panicking, it’s normal or whatever.” He blinked away whatever that deep emotion had been and when he met her eyes once more, the tangible sense of emotion was gone, replaced by a warmth and sadness that told her he understood, but was much less intense than it had been a moment ago.

She wanted to stroke her hand down the side of his cheek, to make him face her, to bring back that look in his eyes and study it until she knew what it meant. She wished she could paint like Feyre, to be able to capture the gold that had lined his molten irises. What on earth was she thinking? She didn’t even know Cassian. He was here because he was the one who had jumped off a mountain to save her. He had heard her secret confession when she had been drunk and vulnerable. That was all. She was lucky it had been him really. He had felt the way she did, that was why he understood. That was all. The look they had shared was one of mutual understanding. That was all. He knew that she was looking for a place in the world, that she had felt it, looking up at the stars. That was not all. He knew too much about her. She looked away from him, blinked away her thoughts and looked back. The thread that had run between them truly gone now, shaken off at both ends. 

_Step 1_ she reminded herself.

“Normal, yeah.” But she still needed to explain jumping off a roof to her sisters and their friends, ‘her friends’ she tried, but it didn’t sound right in her head. Not yet. Realising she has fallen silent, she turned her focus back to the conversation. “Anyway, Amren wants to know firstly, what happened, secondly, why it happened and finally, what they can do to help.”

“It’s not an interrogation Nesta, tell us whatever you like. We just want to know that you’re ok.”

A pause, a moment of consideration. Now was the time for honesty. “And what if that’s not true. What if you can’t know that? Is that ok? Will Feyre be ok if I can’t know that?”

“Yes.” When he said it like that, with a gentle softness that sent shivers down her spine, it sounded like the most obvious thing in the world. “Feyre will have to be ok with it, because they aren’t her feelings. They’re yours, so you get to control them, to figure them out. You can’t live for someone else.” She had closed her eyes, and he couldn’t read her emotions, couldn’t tell if he should continue or if he was pushing too hard. 2 heartbeats. _Thump._ She’s closed her eyes, but her shoulders have relaxed. _Thump._ Continue. “And she will learn to be ok with it because she has people around her who help her to be ok with it. You have people around you who want to help you be ok again.” And there it was, the truth laid bare. She wasn’t sure if she had ever been ok, to begin with, but that didn’t matter, she could feel her plan shifting. She wasn’t explaining herself to Feyre because she owed Feyre the explanation. She would be talking about these things to help share the load and if they shared each other’s loads? It would lighten all their burdens and build bonds between them that couldn’t be broken. That’s why Feyre had found that her rough edges fit with theirs, because even where they didn’t quite match, they were bound together by the yoke of their burdens.

“Ok.” It was all she could think to say and it lay between them. The start of a bond, or maybe even the start of them fitting together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not what I imagined when I began writing this fic, but I guess it takes time to work through emotional trauma, who knew! (Sorry, humour = my coping mechanism, no offence meant!)
> 
> Also, way too many ellipses, but nothing quite conveys the awkward pauses like a few ellipses. It’s three full stops, the pause is three times longer than it should be. Don’t expect these to go away in the next chapter, still lots of awkward emotions to work through.
> 
> Also, I am obsessed with eyes. I love that the colour isn’t solid, take a moment to stare real close at your eyes in the mirror, they are beautiful. (Mine are blue.) I am rubbish at making eye contact, I find it too intimate, so I hope my future husband has beautiful eyes that I can just stare into and that he makes me feel comfortable enough to do that. (Welcome to oversharing with strangers! I like that you get to know me a little bit, feel free to share in the comments too, this is a safe space!)
> 
> BTW, a yoke is the piece of wood that goes between two animals that are pulling a cart together to ensure that they walk the same path and share the load. It is rigid so the animals aren’t tied together, but they can’t drift away from each other either.
> 
> The next part is already written so you won't be waiting long. More angst but a shorter chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nesta finally comes to terms with her feelings and begins to feel at home among the stars.

They spent the rest of the hour before lunch beginning to unpack Nesta’s feelings. Cassian shared enough of his own experiences that Nesta forgot all about the mysterious way he had seemed to know about her panic attack and before she realised any time had passed at all, Nuala was appearing through the walls asking if they were both going to be eating in Nesta’s rooms today. Cassian responded before Nesta had to weigh up the decision and she instead excused herself to change. A strange thrill ran through her at the thought of undressing while Cassian was in the next room, overtaking the awkwardness it also instilled in her. She didn’t even tell them when she was excusing herself for the evening because she needed to bathe before bed, she would just say that she was going to turn in early, just in case she put the image of herself in the bath in their minds. Now, however, she smiled as she slid out of her nightclothes and into a full length, black, chiffon skirt that, true to Night Court fashion, was not quite opaque and a bright red, silky blouse that tied around her midriff to leave just a slither of her stomach exposed. It was exactly the outfit she would have curated to speak to Feyre she told herself, light fabrics and confident red, but the set of billowing night court pants and matching top, in a subtler, deeper wine colour on her bed, where she had laid them out that morning, told a different story. She ignored them as she went to the bathroom, just to see to her needs, the fact that she caught her appearance in the mirror, fixed her hair and added kohl, just to offset the skirt, to her eyes and red lipstick, a subtle pink wouldn’t have matched the top, was a mere coincidence. Luckily, the food still hadn’t arrived when Nesta emerged and she hoped it would give the impression that she had been quick. She didn’t want Cassian thinking she had put much thought into getting ready, because his ego was big enough already, of course. Besides, she was just getting ready for the day. Even if Cassian couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  
Cassian wasn’t thinking about how great Nesta looked right at that moment. No, he was picturing that same outfit adorned with diamonds and white gold, stood next to him, tucked into his side. He knew exactly which suit he would wear to match her outfit and the way his siphons would glow. Did she know that top was the exact same shade? And those sinful red lips? He fought the urge to ask. They would be a formidable couple walking into a party arm in arm. Luckily Nesta didn’t seem inclined to make conversation as she strode across the room. He was sure the shift in his voice would give him away, even if he successfully hid the straining in his pants.  
Lunch was painful. They didn’t talk and it would have seemed to the rest of the world like a comfortable silence, but both of them were so wrapped up in assessing each movement, both made by themselves and their companion. Nuala brought coffee after lunch and with no food left to look at, their eyes ended up locked on each other, glazed over, thoughts a mile away, sipping absentmindedly. It was only when Cassian went to drink and found his mouth filled with the bitter dregs that he set his cup down and cleared his throat. “Are you ready to continue?” Her choice, it would always be her choice, Amren had growled as much at him when she had delivered the letter. Not that he needed reminding. She set her mug down too before glancing at the time.   
“Yes.”   
They moved back over to the sofas and only when they were sat facing each other, did Cassian speak.  
“So you’re happy with what you want to tell them, you just need to practise saying it.” Nesta nodded in confirmation that she had heard. She still had no idea where to start when explaining it all to her family. With Cassian’s insight and Nesta’s 4 days of pondering prior, it hadn’t taken them long to decide what the key things to communicate were and what she could keep private. They had decided that Nesta needed to start with the positive affirmations and then the complete and utter truth. She had not been trying to kill herself. She had been happy at the party and had a few drinks, yes. If they needed further evidence, she could point to the dancing and mingling she had done all evening, so at odds with her usual ‘slink-to-the-shadows’ attitude. She had been struck by the beauty of the stars and had felt them call to her, she had been looking at Cassian’s wings and just got caught up in the moment. She wanted to join the stars, to just be free and untethered for a moment, powerful and graceful. Then came the hard part, she didn’t feel like she fit in here. She was aware she hadn’t tried very hard, but she just didn’t know where to start. The truth. She was not suicidal and although she had wanted to join the stars because she felt a little lonely and a little out of place, she had not jumped because of her sadness, but because of the elation and wonder she felt looking at the stars.  
Cassian assured her that the Night Court could understand that.  
So all that was left was for Nesta to practise saying it. Out loud. At some point she had begun pacing back and forth as she repeated it over and over again, each time adding a little bit more detail as she became more comfortable. Cassian watched and listened, marvelling that the strong beautiful woman striding back and forth in front of him had ever needed his help, but rejoicing in being allowed to witness the most private parts of her heart. He still listened and every time she spoke about the stars calling to her, he shivered. Every time she mentioned looking at his wings he imagined her phantom touches and every time, she said she was sad, he resisted the urge to pull her close.

It was getting dark by the time Nesta ran through her speech, stopped and instead of frowning, smiled. A small satisfied smile.  
“What happened, what I was feeling and what they can do to help.” She said breathlessly. “I did it. We did it.” She pinned him with the most sincere look she could muster. “Thank you, Cassian.” She shivered then and it seemed to break the trance she had been in whilst walking and talking. She looked out the window at the darkening sky. “I didn’t mean to keep you so long, I’m sorry.”  
“It’s ok, I told you we wanted to help. I wanted to help.”   
The way he looked at her, she felt invincible and maybe she was high on that look, but she straightened her spine, levelled her stare with his. “Let’s go find Feyre.” Her voice did not shake and her breathing didn’t quicken. The room did not push or heat, all she could feel was the air between them buzzing with the energy that flowed between them in that look.

This was insane… this was not supposed to happen today, Step 2 then Step 3, but she didn’t want to waste this confidence. It was already staring to fray as she walked down the hallway to the dining room. Cassian had shifted on his feet but told her sheepishly that they had taken to dining in the House of Wind. Just in case she ever joined them. Nesta had only taken a deep breath and declared that it was good, now she could talk to them without having to be carried in his arms down to the Townhouse. She hoped he knew the barb was just to keep her edge because telling him so would have made her go to pieces.

They reached the dining-room door far too quickly and Nesta almost bumped into Cassian as he stopped in front of her. He turned to look at her but neither of them stepped away as they ended up with less than a foot between their faces.  
“Are you sure you’re ready?”  
“Stay close?” She said it quietly and it was all she could muster, but he nodded and when they turned to face the door, his shoulder was pressed against hers, a quiet comfort.

He opened the door and 6 pairs of eyes turned to her. Cassian stepped forward and the movement against her arm carried her with him. She couldn’t remember any pleasantries or greetings with her blood pounding in her ears, so she launched straight into the speech she had practised with Cassian. Deep breath in, exhale, “I wasn’t trying to kill myself…” it took all of 5 minutes for her to get it all out, speaking in an even tone, despite the sea of emotions roiling in her gut. Each member of the Night Court came and hugged her before Cassian put a hand on the small of her back and guided her over to the table. The touch didn’t make her recoil, it didn’t make her feel condescended to be lead to the table as it might once have, it felt welcoming and Nesta could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Her eyes met Cassian’s, and she couldn’t stop herself from smiling as she thought to herself ‘the starlight at the end of the tunnel. I’m still at home among the stars, still moving towards them, because here they are, right in front of me.’ And she could have sworn the light in his eyes shone a little brighter. But this time, the feeling of being laid bare before him, that he was reading her thoughts, didn’t frighten her, because they were safe with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cassian and Nesta are getting closer. YAY.   
> I had to stop in the middle of this fic and write a different slow burn where they do find out the mating bond because I don't think I'll include that in this one. That one is also more in line with canon events. Hopefully, it doesn't confuse the writing too much between the two! 
> 
> Anyway, I think everything I write is kind of slow-burn because I take so many words to do it. I think it's because I have an inner monologue, i.e. I think in words, not in pictures or feelings or whatever. Apparently, not everyone has one, which explains why children need to say sentences out loud when practising writing things because they haven't thought the words yet. As someone who has one, I find that very confusing, but as a teacher, I hope that will help me understand the children in my class a bit better when they are struggling!  
> Let me know what you thought about this chapter and whether you thought it in words! I want to get to know you guys as you get to know me through these increasingly long comments xx


	5. Here we go again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nesta has tried, she really has tried to put that impulsive incident behind her, but when she's reminded of just how bored she is with life, she decides she could do with a bit of adrenaline and of course she's going to being Cassian along for the ride too.

Since opening up to the Inner Circle, Nesta made more of an effort to seek out the places where she fits.

She tried training magically with Amren. She tried training physically with Cassian. She tried out both Azriel and Mor’s kind of ‘politics’. And five other jobs, both befitting of her status and below it. However, almost a year later, she's still searching and the search has become boring. Maybe she just hadn’t wrapped her head around the lifespan of an immortal, a year was nothing to them.

Each day she got up, bathed, ate breakfast with her family, went to work, dinned in the townhouse and read her book until the sun went down, before going to bed. Even with a new job every month, so many things about her days were the same that they just blurred into one endless repeating pattern. Even as a human, there were small things to mark the passing days, the bustling markets on Thursdays, the children of the blessed wailing through the streets on Sundays. Some weeks there would be a birthday to celebrate in the village or even a carnival, someone would be getting married or have done something scandalous that the women could gossip about. The seasons changed, Nesta actually got older and life marched on. Maybe it was the stark contrast with mortality that made Nesta bored with life. Nobody hurried about, things didn’t happen every day because 80 years’ worth of life was now stretched across 800. With no end in sight, there was no urgency to the way the fae lived.

On this particular Thursday, they had decided to dine at the House of Wind. After dinner, they had retreated to one of the many private lounges, filled with richly upholstered chaises, armchairs and low sofas to facilitate the lounging of an assortment of fae, both with and without wings.

Nesta had claimed one end of a low sofa, as they all filed into the room, tucking her legs tightly beneath her. Cassian had been the last one in and had looked at the remaining space on the sofa, rustled his wings and opted to sit on the floor in front of the sofa, leaning his lower back against it with his wings spread out to either side. In the past months, Nesta had become comfortable around Cassian, so as the night wore on, she stretched out behind him, her head propped on the arm of the sofa to peek out from behind his wings.

They were filling each other in on what they had been up to in the month since they had last sat down together for an evening. Of course, they normally ate dinner and breakfast together, but Amren had been at the Summer Court, Mor had spent a couple of weekdays in Hybern and Cassian had only just gotten back from his extended trip to the camps, so there was always someone who wanted to know about a particular story, even if everyone else had already heard it.

Elain had begun tending the gardens at the townhouse a few months after they had taken up residence in Velaris, and then a small allotment and eventually a community garden. The species in the Night Court were so different from the ones in the mortal realm that she had not run out of new things to grow and learn to keep alive. However, 2 years in, she had decided she couldn’t really just garden for the rest of eternity. Despite Feyre’s protests, that yes, Elain could take as much time as she liked to heal and indulge in her hobbies because Feyre had enough money to take care of her now, Elain had decided to start selling her produce. Now a few seasons in and well versed in which plants were most profitable to grow throughout the year, Elain was telling them all about how she had made enough profits to donate flowers to local hospitals and care homes.

“What about you, Nesta?” “Found your place in the world yet?” “Didn’t you work at one of the shops Elain vends for last month?” She closed her eyes and let out a groan against the onslaught of questions. She tried to drown out the noise and formulate an answer. She could hear someone breathing steadily and she focussed her attention on it, putting her breathing in time with it. When she opened her eyes, she subconsciously sought out Cassian's. She couldn't believe it when he met her gaze. He had turned to look at her over his shoulder and was exaggerating his breathing, calm, slow breaths. The ones she had found above the noise and was matching. The time seemed to have slowed from when they began peppering her with questions, so even though it felt like minutes, when she turned back to them, they were smiling and waiting for her response, unaware of the sea of thoughts and the quiet exchange that had passed. 

She had prepared herself for them, but the last 2 hours of quietly listening to how great everyone else’s lives were going had reminded her of just how unfulfilling everything she tried was. “I’m fine.” She might not have made any progress in finding a career, but she had at least learnt how to communicate with them. Start with a headline, so they don’t immediately go into panic mode when you complain about how horrible your life is. It was as if none of them remembered what it was like to not be content with life now that everything was good for them. A small dose of discontentment was the end of the world to them. “The people at that shop were lovely, I can see why you get along with them so well Elain, but it wasn’t for me. Every day was the same. No matter _what_ I do, every day is the same.”

“ _My_ days aren’t all the same.” Cassian looked slightly pouty. She smiled at his child-like expression and the memory of how enthusiastic he had been to show her the camps and train her. Then the memory of how dejected he had been when, after a month, she had declared that she was going to return to Velaris. At least the month had given her some strength and the ability to protect herself. A skill which had come in handy the month she had shadowed Mor in the Court of Nightmares.

“Cassian, the month I spent at the camps can be summed up entirely as eat, train, sleep.”

“We visited a different camp every week!”

“Yes, and at every camp it was cold, it rained, we slept in a tent and most of the Illyrians looked at me like I was dirt: the rest of them looked like they wanted to fight me or f*** me, at every. Damn. Camp. What about that is different?”

He looked away defeated, even as he muttered under his breath what she could only assume was a feeble attempt to argue. The rest of the Inner Circle burst into laughter, and something in her rose up to defend him, “like any of your routines are any better.” A mixture of indignant responses and concessions had the light back in Cassian’s eyes as the teasing turned on them and she felt glad. She resisted the urge to learn across the sofa and hug him from behind. _Just to make sure he hadn't taken offence._

It was a while before Feyre finally drew the attention back to Nesta. “So what _are_ you going to do?”

A deep sigh from Nesta. “I don’t know. I am just so bored. I feel like I’m sleeping through my life and it makes me want to scream just for the sake of feeling something.” She finished emphatically.

“Well, when was the last time you felt truly alive?”

Nesta wracked her brain, she worked her way back through all the jobs she had tried out. She certainly hadn’t felt alive in the shop. Some of the customers stopped for some lively conversation, but they never hovered for long and Nesta didn’t really know them well enough to share the kind of jokes that she now did with the Inner Circle. Her mind worked back through the months. There were some private moments where she had laughed, with _him_ , but she wasn't going to share those memories: they were locked up safe in her heart. So, back and back her mind searched, for a moment she _could_ share with them. Suddenly, Nesta’s eyes lit up and she sat up and leaned over Cassian’s shoulder to whisper, just loud enough for everyone to hear, “I bet Cassian can guess,” she said. He turned to look at her, their faces too close for a heartbeat, before she leapt to her feet, hurdled over his wings and sprinted for the balcony. It took him a minute while he recovered from the way her hair had brushed against his wing as she leant over him, but as soon as his brain could properly function again, he was up and giving chase. Elain’s shrieks and Rhys’ laughter were the last things Nesta heard as she vaulted over the railing and that familiar rush of air hit her. Cassian hadn’t had as much warning this time, so she was truly alone in the air for a few brief moments before Cassian launched himself from the balcony. This time, he made himself sleek as an arrow, shooting past her before levelling out to fly in a wide arc and pluck her from the air once she was level with him. This time, she anticipated it and rolled over in the air so he could cradle her under her back and legs. She braced herself for the impact as he swept her up into his arms, tucking her head in and, although it collided with his shoulder forcefully, it was better than the whiplash she would have otherwise received. Cassian took his time flying back up to the balcony and when they landed and Nesta saw the range of shocked and awestruck faces, she couldn't help but burst out laughing. Cassian loosed a sigh of relief from where he was bent over, arms braced on his knees beside her.

Nesta stopped laughing long enough to look down at him and rub soothing circles on his back. She almost felt bad, but the rest of the Inner Circle were smiling and shaking their heads. When she was sure he wasn’t about to have a heart attack, she skipped back towards the sofa, a self-satisfied grin plastered on her face. It took him until she had settled herself against the cushions of the sofa to right himself and follow her.

His face was serious, but there was a slight gleam in his eye. Enough to tell her that he wasn’t actually mad. “As much as I appreciate the adrenaline high, sweetheart, it’s not exactly a practical solution to your dilemma. What are you going to do? What are you going to do first?” Cassian had been the first to offer her a place with him when she had started her search for a job and when she moved back to Velaris, even after she had agreed to Amren’s offer to train, he had visited her and they had talked about her options. Every time she declared that she needed a new start, he was there to listen and to talk, they would often spend the entire day together. She would join him for training in the morning and they would reconvene in the library after lunch to just talk. It was early on in those monthly visits that she had told Cassian about her 3 step plan for dealing with Feyre (skirting around the panic attack that had triggered it) and ever since he had been so careful about the way he phrased things, laying out life one manageable step at a time before her. More often than not, she appreciated it, but him mentioning it in front of her family made her pride rise up within her. She didn’t want rest of them to think she couldn’t handle life without cutting it up into tiny bitesize pieces like a child.

There were two thoughts in her mind. Firstly, she needed to keep calm. _None of them have noticed. They don’t know about the lists. Not even Cassian knows about the panic attack._ The thought that maybe Cassian did somehow know was pushed down before it could surface. _Just glaze over the oddly specific phrasing and they will too._ Secondly, she needed to reassure Feyre, she hadn’t exactly sounded like the happiest person in the world before she jumped and after Starfall last year. There was still some guilt remaining about how worried she had made Feyre feel and she didn't want Feyre to think that maybe Nesta did consider jumping off buildings a good way to end her boredom... permanently. _Meet her eyes and smile, not too big like you’re trying to hide something, just a small, reassuring smile and a slight nod for good measure._

Nesta turned back to the conversation. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. Don’t you guys have any jobs that require throwing yourselves from buildings?” She Wined.

“We do, but they’re done by people who actually have wings, not just those who like to think they do.” Cassian said as he shuffled back into his position between the sofa and the coffee table, shaking his wings emphatically in front of her before sitting down. She had nestled herself between the sofa cushions right in the middle of the sofa, since it was clear she was to have it all to herself, so his head was in easy reach when she had the urge to slap him. He flinched at the impact and turned to look at her with brows raised as if to say. _Am I wrong though?_ He wasn’t and it only infuriated her more. “You _never_ know what you want to do, but we’ll figure it out.” He caught himself and amended it, “we’ll all help you figure it out.” She didn't know whether the Inner Circle were aware of Cassian's role in her job search, but her heart always raced a little bit when he spoke about them as a collective. His did too, but in all the conversations they had had, all the time spent alone, they had never spoken about it. She never mentioned that she felt more relaxed, just having him near. He never mentioned how he always found her, no matter where she had chosen to hide away and read that day. In all the hours spent in comfortable silence, they had never found the time to voice those truths. They just sat there between them. Buried under a whole pile of unspoken things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a flash-forward, but I feel like that's the way inside jokes begin. She can't do it too soon after or Feyre really would think there was something wrong, but a few weeks before solstice she is reminded once again of that night that helped her get her life on track and she goes for it.
> 
> Also, she is just comfortable with Cassian now and I live for that. Friends to lovers ftw. I am definitely projecting now... whoops. I just kept going back through and adding more Nessian. I figure after a year they are going to have gotten somewhere.
> 
> Bit later than I typically try to post, but I had stuff to do today and I am trying to post every other day, hope you like it whenever you manage to read it!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another month, another job that just doesn't quite fit, because they both know where she really fits. It's time for their monthly planning meeting, Nesta's feelings seem to be going awry and Cassian starts to toe the line.

Nesta’s month working as an assistant at the local magazine was almost at an end and Nesta was glad. It wasn’t nearly as bad as the job at the shop where she had decided after only a week that it wasn’t for her but stayed to work out the month anyway. It varied from job to job how long it took her to decide whether it was for her or, as the case had always been, not, but it was a promise she had made to herself. Each venture would be given at least a month of her time, mainly to ensure she gave them a fair chance against her volatile emotions, one bad day shouldn't decide her future, but also so that she didn’t burn through all her potential career options too quickly, she had forever after all. She had enjoyed the work at the magazine. There were enough menial decisions that even an intern could make that she still got to exercise her brain. She liked the clear hierarchy. No blurred lines, if she was told what to do by a superior, she did it. She found she didn’t even mind when she was given boring manual tasks: she was bottom of the chain of command, but at least she knew where she stood. Not like the tenuous power balance at the Court of Nightmares, where the citizens were ruled by their own leader, even if they officially bowed to Rhys. Being just Rhys’ messenger put you somewhere awkwardly in the middle.

* * *

It was Saturday. The magazine published on Saturdays and work didn’t begin for the next week’s issue until Monday, so Nesta had the weekend free, another perk of the job. Cassian had taken today off too and they were to meet and plan her next endeavour. Her month at the magazine ended on Wednesday, but luckily with her status and the number of jobs going, she usually didn’t have to give much notice before asking if she could do a trial month at any advertised vacancy. The majority of the companies also seemed happy to have her work from the first of the month, it made their accounting easy and it suited her too.

She awoke early: for a Saturday. She had never been able to adjust her sleep schedule to rise early for work and late on the weekends, so 7 am every morning her eyes would flutter open. It suited her anyway, Cassian liked to train before the Sun got unbearably hot in the middle of the day. She dressed in a pair of the leggings and an undershirt she had acquired whilst living at the camps with Cassian, leaving the fighting leathers behind and heading for the roof.

Cassian was already waiting for her, enough sweat glistening on his chest to tell her that he had been working out already too. It frustrated her, she knew she couldn’t keep up with him; that by the time she was aching and out of breath, he wouldn’t have been pushed far enough, but knowing that he knew it too; that he saw her as weak? She pushed herself extra hard that morning and took great satisfaction in finding that Cassian was out of breath too by the time they finished sparring. Not nearly as out of breath as her and she hadn't even landed many hits, but she didn’t care. She beamed at the thought that she might actually be getting fitter. Fitness hadn’t been a priority for her as a human, but something in the way Cassian put his time and energy into it made it feel worth caring about.

She joked about him needing a shower and he shoved against her lightly with his shoulder. Neither of them moved to separate where their shoulders touched as they walked back down to their respective rooms. The truth was, both of them needed a shower. Nesta peeled off the sweat-soaked, white linen shirt which was near see-through and clinging to her body, but a body was just a body when you honed them into weapons for a living. She unwrapped the bindings around her chest and finished stripping herself of her leggings. Earlier - focussed on her breathing and the placement of her arms and legs, the force used in each movement - she hadn’t had time to indulge in the feeling of having him near, but as she stepped into the shower, her mind wondered across the hallway. Knowing that they were both naked with water running over their bodies, even in different rooms, felt strangely… erotic. She knew it was just her imagination, but it was almost as if she could feel his relief at the cool water running over his body and the rough feel of his calloused hands as he washed the sweat from it.

She showered as quickly as she could, braided back her wet hair and put on some loose trousers and a crop top. She hated the feeling of clothes clinging to her skin right after a shower. With one last look in the mirror, she went to find Cassian in the kitchen. She didn’t know exactly when she had started checking her appearance in the mirror, but it was a habit she had picked up whilst living in the Illyrian Camps with Cassian. Her face had become less gaunt as she stopped drinking, started training and began tumbling into bed exhausted, allowing for deep restorative sleep, that, she told herself, was when she had started bothering to look at herself in the mirror.

With just the two of them, they never bothered to sit at the formal dining table. Instead, fetching lunch from the kitchen and finding a quiet balcony with a table for two or lounging on the sofas in one of the private sitting rooms, sometimes Nesta would walk, as if on instinct, into the library and they would eat in two big armchairs near the floor to ceiling windows. They had all slowly become the places that Nesta felt most comfortable in, around the House of Wind.

They would talk quietly over lunch, Cassian telling Nesta all about his time at the camps that month, jokes and smiles passing unrestrainedly between them. However, when the last crumb was gone and Nesta leaned to put her plate back on the table, Cassian would turn to her, meet her eyes and ask “so, did you fit there?” Always the same question. Always the same instinctive response, Nesta’s heart would sink, knowing that their carefree conversation was over. Nesta never gave him a straight answer, instead, she would begin recounting her time in that month’s occupation, letting Cassian decide for himself as she went. He could never quite feel sad when she reached the end, looked at him and waited for his verdict. No, she didn’t fit with the people of the Hewn City, or the shop keepers or anywhere else she had tried. This month though, his heart tugged a little as she met his gaze, “it sounds like you might be enjoying it there, it’s at least a little different every week and you’re confident in your position…” he trailed off, his eyes dropping from hers. There was a small, unacknowledged part of him that knew exactly where she fit, not just enough that you could find ways to bridge the gaps, but completely. Two perfect halves that fit together so completely. But maybe she was happy there, maybe the same loose fit that he felt at the camps was enough for her.

“But I didn’t fit with them.” She wasn’t sure what exactly she was looking for, the work had been satisfactory, but something in her knew there was something better out there, somewhere. The tension in him lessened and his soft, brown eyes met her defiant, blue ones once more. Neither of them wanted her to be unhappy, but they both knew the search wasn’t over. Yet another thought they would never voice.

“So, what would you like to try now?”

“I don’t…”

“you never do.” They knew this routine like a dance, it’s familiarity comforting. Cassian pulled the newspaper he had brought with him from beside the chair and turned to the advertisements. Nesta almost forgot to listen to the list of jobs available as his deep voice washed over her. They stopped to muse on a few ideas, but Cassian always resumed reading, knowing from the way she spoke that the job wasn’t the one.

“Teacher’s assistant. How about that? For a primary school class, I’m sure that’s far from monotonous.” He looked up at her questioningly. His gaze shifted to something softer as a thought entered his mind, “how… how do you feel about kids?” His voice was a little breathless and she stared out of the window, refusing to acknowledge the weight of the question. _How_ would _you feel about kids? Having kids. Her kids._

“I like them well enough.”

“So you’ll give it a try?” They had been talking about finding her a job for 2 hours already, she wanted to move on from it, to not waste the time they had together and there was something so hopeful in Cassian’s eyes.

“Yes, I’ll give it a try.” The small smile in his eyes set the butterflies in Nesta's stomach fluttering.

She wrote a letter to the school on the magic parchment they retrieved from Rhys' desk and it reappeared a few moments later with confirmation that she could start Thursday. Satisfied, Nesta sat back in her chair and looked over at Cassian. There were a few moments of peace, but before long they were chatting about everything and nothing, laughing and joking. Before they knew it, it was time for dinner. Neither of them wanted to go, but neither of them could muster the strength to explain to Rhys and Feyre that they wouldn’t be joining them for dinner. Nesta didn’t want to acknowledge the feelings she would need to address in order to explain it to Feyre.

Thankfully, dinner was short, none of them particularly trying to make conversation. Not uncomfortable, just quiet. Feyre and Rhys made their excuses soon after the last course was cleared away and Nesta and Cassian were left alone once more. Cassian grabbed the coffee pot and his mug from the table and Nesta grabbed the milk and her own mug and followed him into the sitting room. The same one they had sat in a month ago.

This time, as Cassian poured them each a coffee, Nesta headed for the chaise usually occupied by Rhys and Feyre, a low dip in the back to accommodate his wings at one end and soft cushions for her at the other. Cassian didn’t hesitate before joining her. Once he had settled with his wings stretched out behind them, she turned to lean against the arm of the chair, bringing her knees up, fluffy socks just brushing against his thigh. The only contact between them. Just a small reminder of the comfortable companionship they shared. Neither of them was inclined to break through the blanket of peace that had settled over them during their meal with Rhys and Feyre, so they just sat there, watching the sun go down and sipping on coffee.

Just as the last curve of the sun disappeared from view, the sky a brilliant pink, Cassian broke the silence. “Would you like to go out flying? Not to go anywhere, just to… fly.” It took all his bravery to ask and the minute it was out, his mind started racing with the implications, him holding her in his arms, letting her in on one of his personal joys.

“Yes.” Her voice cut through the noise and they just looked at each other for a second before he remembered to get up off the chaise and offered her a hand to rise. Physical contact was nothing new between them. Cassian had had his hands all over Nesta during training, but with the knowledge that she was about to voluntarily spend time in his arms, just for the sake of enjoyment… it felt more meaningful.

They walked to the balcony, hand in hand and only when they made it through the doors, did he let her hand drop to bring his arm up behind her back, hers going to his neck as he swept her off the floor in one swift movement. He barely paused to take a breath before bending his knees and spreading his wings to leap into the sky. It was almost as if he was afraid that if they stopped one or other of them would come to their senses, but having her in his arms, felt like it made the most sense of all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one today... nope. 2000 words later and I haven't even finished a day!
> 
> Thank you for all the kind words honestly makes me want to just keep writing forever! Let me know if you think Cassian has finally found a good fit for Nesta. (Was I too subtle about what Cassian was really thinking when he asked if Nesta likes kids? Probably not, I have the subtlety of an elephant!)


	7. Your half of me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title not to be confused with "You're half of me", although I almost feel like that could work too?  
> Just Fluff... literally just *cough cough* mating fluff. Cassian takes her flying and they watch the sunset.  
> I don't do smut you'll probably get some rubbish breeze over like "they spend days in the sheets" and that'll be it, so revel in the fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if you already read this chapter and I added this note afterwards, but I just remembered, at the end of this chapter, there's a line that I shamelessly stole from the song "Never Be Alone" by Shawn Mendes and just like, maybe put it on and sob a little bit. I felt like doing that when writing this. (Not in a vain way about my writing, I was just an emotional mess at the time anyway)

His wings only beat frantically for the first few moments, propelling them upwards, but once they were high over the city, he spread them wide and they just glided for a long moment, each time they swooped closer to the rooftops Cassian would bank softly and catch an updraft. Nesta had been watching the city for 10 minutes as they drifted through the air, trying to memorise the way it looked, but even with the streetlights blinking to life, the sun had finished setting since they had leapt from the balcony and she was starting to struggle to make out the details, like the colours of the market stall parasols and the signs that distinguished homes from businesses. She didn’t bother to fight the urge to give up straining her eyes, she liked the view as she turned her head back up to look at Cassian.

Feeling her shift in his arms, he looked down to meet her eyes. With her cradled against him, their faces were very close, Nesta had the urge to look away, but the tension in the gaze between them held on to her.  
“It’s so beautiful, Cass.” She hadn’t realised the tears gathering in her eyes were from emotion and not just the wind until she struggled to get the words out past the lump in her throat. “Thank you.” She hoped he knew that she didn’t just mean for taking her flying, but for letting her into this part of his life. Nesta knew only too well that to let someone in, was to give them the power to truly destroy something. Cassian always seemed so open, but she got the feeling that this was something he didn’t share with everyone, something he guarded more carefully than all his other secrets, that he couldn't simply hide behind sarcasm and smiles. She loved that he trusted her. She didn’t want to break it.

Finally released from the awestruck spell she had been under watching the city, Nesta couldn’t suppress the shiver as she noticed just how cold it was. While she didn’t bother with pretty skirts and dresses around Cassian, the comfortable leggings she had donned in the heat of the day did nothing against the winds of a cloudless night.

“Sorry. I should have thought...” The words died on his lips and the light that had shone in his eyes as he had gazed at Nesta blinked out, replaced by concern and… disappointment. He knew he was going to have to take her back. As a Fae, she would have better resistance to the cold than in her frail human body, but nothing compared to the resistance built by living on the Steppes for over 500 years.

“It’s ok, it’s just now that the sun has gone down…” She trailed off too, clearly realising the same thing he had and not wanting to prompt him into action, but her words sparked a different idea in his head.

“Maybe we can do something about that.” Nesta gave him a confused look, but his eyes had shifted to focus on the horizon. Cassian beat his wings hard and then veered right. Nesta had forgotten what the beat of wings felt like in the peaceful minutes they had spent soaring over Velaris and she gripped Cassian tighter as his body contracted with the muscles of his wings. Minutes passed where Nesta watched the world slip silently by underneath them, letting Cassian focus on flying as fast as he could until they were no longer over Velaris, but heading towards the mountains, directly West of the city, up and up, over the peaks.

As Cassian and Nesta rose above the first peak, she could see the pink light staining the horizon again. She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her and the sparkle in her eye. They continued to fly West until they reached the cliffs. Unlike the gentle cliffs near the mouth of the River Sidra, the mountains here were high and dropped straight off into the water below. Perfect for watching the sunset over the sea. Nesta turned her face to the sun and shut her eyes as she basked in the feeling of its warm, of flying, of being in Cassian’s arms. He landed gently, taking the impact with a few steps forward, but he still held her for a few moments after setting her down, to steady her. She barely registered that he still had his hands on her as she looked at the sun. Cassian may not be able to stop the world from turning for her, but he had brought back the sun, just for a few minutes more, just for her. When his hands finally did leave her waist, she subconsciously stepped back towards his warmth. He nervously put his hand on the middle of her back and when she didn’t startle out of his touch, he lead her towards the cliff edge. They stopped a few meters back and sat down in the grass, both all too aware of the space between them.  
“It's so beautiful, Cass.” Nesta was spellbound. Out here, the light reflected not only in the clouds but also in the water, making the whole earth glow yellow and pink. It felt so much brighter than it had watching the sun go down from the house of wind, disappearing behind the cold unfeeling and rock. Miles away from the City, it felt like this time, it was just for them.  
“Wow, twice in one night.” He was equally spellbound, but he wasn’t watching the sunset. Nesta’s mouth opened to say something, but she stopped herself and pressed it into a firm line instead.  
“Thank you for reminding me to maintain my reputation.” Her eyes dropped to an invisible loose thread in her legging and the playfulness in them was gone. In the House of Wind, Nesta knew where the lines lay between them, but allowing him to hold her in his arms just because and sitting with him here now, they were so far past them, out of the safety of her barriers and she knew it: she was desperately scrambling back towards them.  
“I didn’t mean it like that Nesta. I like this side of you.” Her wanted to reach out and lift her chin, to give her back some of the pride he felt at seeing her like this.  
“This side of me doesn’t exist.” She pondered on her words a moment and thought back to all the time they had spent together over the past few months. She was opening up to her family, but only during those days spent with Cassian was she truly like this. Like whatever Cassian saw in this moment… happy. “Only for you.” The confession left her bare and for the second time tonight, she shivered. She took a deep breath to wash away the emotion before it could crush her and said in a much lighter tone, “shame you can’t outrun the wind and bring the sun back again. How do you cope with the wind up on the Steppes?”  
Silence. Had she said something wrong bringing up the Steppes or was it the reminder that there was nothing he could do to protect her, just like before, only this time it was the forces of nature itself. But Cassian was contemplating his response and slowly, so as not to startle her, he brought his wings around them.  
“We were bred for it.” There’s a slight sadness in his voice, the reminder of all the times someone had called him a brute for being born an Illyrian. Then the sadness passed and he looked at Nesta with a challenge in his eyes, “but if you want to benefit from it… you’re going to have to sit a little closer.” Maybe it was that they were truly hidden from the world out here. Maybe it was that Nesta truly did feel like a different person when she was with Cassian, but Nesta met his gaze, steeled her courage, stood up and moved sat between his legs. She moved smoothly even though inside she wanted to turn and run. His legs were solid either side of him and she leant back again his chest as his wings came around them, leaving a small gap between them to watch the last of the sunset fade from the sky.   
“This part of me is only for you.” A quick breath, “it's yours.” She didn’t know where it came from, but those words felt so right, being in Cassian’s arms felt so right and as she said it, she felt it. The bond between them, bright and shining and strong. Where Feyre had described it as light, Nesta and Cassian’s bond was fire. Hot and passion and a little dangerous, and it felt right. Nesta heard Cassian’s little gasp. She didn’t know whether he had already known about the bond or not, she had felt the little tugs towards him sometimes. Felt his emotions more keenly than she did with others, almost as if she was feeling them too. All the times she had stepped in to deflect the teasing away from him flashed through her mind along with feelings she didn’t remember having had herself. She had come to suspect it, hope for it, but she didn’t know if Cassian had and she wasn’t inclined to break the moment to ask him. They could talk about it later, for now, she was content to let it sit between them as the stars came out above them.  
The stars were fully out by the time Nesta felt her eyes drooping and she turned her head from where it was resting on Cassian’s shoulder to whisper against his neck. “We should be getting back.”  
“I want you in my arms for a little bit longer.” He whispered back, closing his eyes at the feel of her breath against his ear.  
“We have to fly back. I’ll be in your arms for plenty longer.” She said matter-of-factly, sitting up a little to turn and look at him. She didn’t let herself mourn the loss of his warmth, if she sat back against him he would know he had won and they would be up here for hours more. The grass underneath her was starting to feel damp with dew already.  
“That’s not plenty.” He pouted, his eyes still closed as if that would convince her that he wasn’t going to move. She chuckled a breathy little laugh and chewed on her lip nervously before responding softly, but with great conviction.  
“Well, maybe a little after that too.” He opened one eye. Out here and up in the stars, they were away from real life. She had said so herself. She was a different person when they were alone, but here she was offering herself to him… amongst real life.  
“Deal.” His smile was the most genuine one she had ever seen, not a smirk or a diplomatic smile, not the smile he gave Rhys and Mor and Az that was full of unspoken things, just pure unadulterated love and joy. She felt it in her stomach and couldn’t help but smile too.  
Cassian promised to fly very slowly to make the most of the time and although Nesta rolled her eyes, she was glad at least that she wouldn’t be shuddering in the rushing wind again. Cassian flew high up into the cloudless sky and Nesta reached a hand towards the stars. She was at home, with him, among the stars.  
Before they got home, Nesta fell asleep in Cassian’s arms, he chuckled but just tried to keep the rest of the flight as smooth as possible. He was successful right until he landed on her balcony and realised he couldn’t get the door open. He tried but woke Nesta up in the process. She reached out a hand from his arms and pulled the door open, chuckling at his antics. He set her down, but she didn’t remove her arms from his.  
“Goodnight Nesta.” He hesitated and then kissed her cheek. She slid her hands down from his neck and down his arm to hold one of his hands before turning to walk into the bedroom. When he didn’t immediately follow she turned back to him. “Nesta, I…”  
“I’m not inviting you into my bed like that, I just… I promised you more time and I’m going to bed either way.” Again, she said it so matter-of-factly that Cassian could do nothing more than blink.  
“Are you sure?”  
“You don’t have to…”  
“I didn’t say…”  
“We are mates.” There had been such a jumble of words between them, but when Nesta blurted that out, they both fell silent. She looked so small and scared, as if afraid that she had misunderstood what was between them. “We are, aren’t we? That’s what this is. It’s why I feel so drawn to you, why I trust you and all the other things.” Other things. All those other feelings that she had. Love.  
“I would love to hold you for a little longer.”  
Cassian didn’t have any clothes in Nesta’s room, so he stripped down to his undershirt and leggings while Nesta went to the bathroom to put on a nightdress. It was modest, but when she walked, the silky fabric swayed against her skin showing her curves. Cassian was stood at the foot of the bed and she walked past him to the side of the bed she normally slept in and slipped between the sheets, without extending an invitation to Cassian. He stood, still facing the bathroom door where he had watched Nesta come out, for a moment before he realised that no invitation was coming and walked around to the other side of the bed. He slid between the sheets and shuffled forward, facing Nesta’s back. There was about a foot of space between them until Nesta shuffled back, pressing herself against Cassian, before sighing contently and drifting off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's my random thought for this chapter, as always Comment, please. About the random thought, about the chapter. I love to hear how I could have played more into their canon traits, even though this is very non-canon.  
> Random Thought: How do the Illyrians actually carry someone, like I imagine their bodies to be horizontal and if they are cradling someone bridal style, surely that means the person sort of hangs below them? How do they reach up to put their arms around the Illyrian's neck? Where as the book talks about being cradled against their chest, which means the Illyrian must be sort of upright? Unless the dangling person is sort of horizontal too? Or unless the front of the person is against the Illyrian's chest rather than the side of the person? Do I need a diagram? Maybe that will be in the next chapter?


	8. Lazy Sunday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Sunday... the morning after the night before and luckily Cassian doesn't have to be anywhere and neither does Nesta... it's not what you think. They're such awkward little beans in love!  
> This is short, but the next one is gonna be long, promise.

Nesta woke to the gentle rhythm of Cassian’s breathing behind her. His arm was a solid weight at her waist and his wings were a canopy above her.

When she had first opened her eyes, it had taken her a minute to remember last night and why exactly the weight and the canopy were present. However, it had taken her a further 2 whole minutes to be surprised at the lack of shock she had felt upon awakening in the unfamiliar embrace. Although she was settled in the Night Court now and the nightmares had all but stopped, she was still easily startled and even last night, in the few seconds she had contemplated before shuffling back to close the space between them, she had wondered if she would struggle to sleep with a strange presence in the room.

But once Nesta got over how shocked she was at not feeling uncomfortable, she realised that she was, indeed, very comfortable and content to lie there for as long as Cassian would. So she lay there, eyes alternating between watching the clouds beyond the window and remembering the feeling of soaring through the sky, wrapped in Cassian’s arms and watching Cassian’s wings, tracing the veins in them and remembering the feeling of being cocooned in them, wrapped in Cassian’s arms. At times she tried to decide what she would say to Cassian. What exactly had last night meant to him? What did it mean for them? He had been the one to suggest flying. He had been the one to fly them out to the cliffs for a second sunset. He had been the one who had asked to hold her for a little longer. She was the one who had blurted out that they were mates. He was the 500-year-old commander of the deadliest armies in all of Pyrithian. He was the one who hadn’t said it back. He was the one who couldn’t possibly love her… could he?

He was the one who stayed. Nesta’s heart argued back against her mind.

Cassian hadn’t opened his eyes but had known immediately where he was… and not bothered. Her scent wrapped around him and he was shocked that she had let him stay, but that emotion was overridden by the pure joy he felt. He would be content to lie there forever. So he remained lying there, with his arm around his mate, replaying the events of the previous night over and over. How she had felt in his arms. How she had climbed into his embrace. How she had held his hand. How she had shuffled back against him. But Nesta still flinched when she hadn’t heard someone come into the kitchen. There were still mornings where the shadows of nightmares flickered across her face. She had still asked him to star because they were mates. She still wasn’t quite settled back to normal… as a fae. How could he expect her to start something with him, when she was still sorting herself out.

But we’ve already started something. Cassian’s heart argued back against his mind.

It was almost noon before Nesta shifted a little too far and whimpered as a strand of hair caught under Cassian tugged painfully. Cassian moved on instinct and the game was over.

“How long have you been awake?” The clarity of Nesta’s voice gave away what Cassian had suspected, she had been awake for a while.

“Not sure. A couple of minutes, an hour, a couple of hours.” She could hear the questioning in his tone, clearly uncertain about how she would respond to the news, but Cassian’s gamble that she had been awake just as long paid off.

“Me too.” She couldn’t keep the soft laughter from her voice and the way her body moved against his chest with it, he couldn’t help but join in. She pulled away from him and he groaned, only for her to shift and turn around and lean back down towards him. He didn’t fail to notice her eyes rolling, or the beaming smile on his face. “Well now that we’re both awake, I’m starving. Let’s go and get some lunch.” Both of them, it seemed, were inclined to ignore that fact that both of them had been awake for hours, but had chosen to stay silent and in each other’s embrace.

Nesta still didn’t know what she wanted to say to Cassian. If she should say anything at all, so she slipped out of bed, earning another groan from Cassian and grabbed some clean clothes to change in the bathroom.

They stopped by Cassian’s room for him to change before sauntering into down the hall to the kitchen. They decided to eat lunch just the two of them, out on the balcony despite the fact that it was Sunday, so the rest of the Inner Circle would be around.

Nesta and Cassian trained all day, both of them content to have something to do, to leave last night in the pile of unspoken things between them.

If their friends were curious about where the two of them had been all day when they rejoined them all at dinner time, they didn’t dare voice it, but it was impossible for them not to notice the shy glances and whispered smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cassian’s love language is definitely physical touch. Nesta’s is like acts of service, show me you love me, don’t just tell me. And No, I definitely didn’t come up with that after I wrote each of their memories of the night before because I felt like I was making Cassian sound too… male? With picking up on all the touches. I don’t know.. my fingers just type and I think about it afterwards.
> 
> Thank you for coming on this journey with me, all of you who I know have subscribed because you're always quick to read and comment... it truly makes my heart soar!

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer I have never been drunk or high or in love or dealt with the trauma or mental illness that Nesta might be suffering from, so this is just what I imagine it to be like or rather what tropey fanfictions tell me it is like! I am open in inputs on making this more realistic for those who have been drunk or through these sorts of things. If you fancy writing a conversation between Feyre and Nesta where they discuss suicide I am totally unqualified, but would be opposed to that conversation being part of the story and learning more so that if I am ever in that situation I would know what to/not to say!
> 
> I feel like you hear more about people being driven to this when they are high, but I don't dabble with drugs, even in my writing.
> 
> If you want more impulsive stupid Nesta, dragging Cassian along for the ride, I wrote an alternative second chapter here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27337558  
> Or keep reading for the slow burn, slightly angsty relationship with Feyre and eventually fun and cute Cassian and Nesta!
> 
> Or Both... Both is good!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Finally Home among the stars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27337558) by [Katherine24](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katherine24/pseuds/Katherine24)




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